


Always Leave a Thank You Note

by callmeonetrack



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: AU: Hand of God, Blow Jobs, F/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-17 00:05:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9295532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmeonetrack/pseuds/callmeonetrack
Summary: After the Tylium mission, Lee gets a lot of thank you notes. Kara's is by far his favorite.





	

Lee wakes with his head pounding like someone’s got a jackhammer in there, trying to break up the concrete they must have poured while he was sleeping, and for a few seconds, he can’t figure out why the room is backwards.

“Mornin’ Sunshine.”

“Why am I in your rack?” He turns to see Kara, clad only in tanks and underwear, grinning at him as she saunters over and holds out her hand, two aspirin cupped in the palm.

“Hey, most guys would consider that their lucky day.”

He takes the aspirin and downs it dry, grimacing a little. “Yeah, well—” but he breaks off a second later as his arms lower, and he catches out of the corner of his eye something dark. He looks down and his eyes widen in surprise. It’s writing, little groupings of a few words here and there all over his torso and arms, made with black marker by the looks of it, in all different hands. And next to each scribble there’s a round blush-colored mark that looks like… “What the hell is this?!”

He looks up to find Kara smirking, barely holding in her laughter. “You were quite a hit with the ladies last night, Apollo. They all wanted to leave a thank you for the CAG since he was such a big damn hero.”

Vaguely he recalls how people kept handing him beers, then later shots of ambrosia, as they hugged him and clapped him on the back, congratulating him on the tylium mission. He thinks he remembers his father coming over to him and Kara, smiling and telling them they'd earned 24 hours leave. It all gets a little fuzzy after that though. His eyes roam over his ink- and hickey-covered skin, seeing messages from Racetrack, Boomer, Kat. His brows raise as he sees less expected names. “Dee? And…frak Kara, Cally?! Are they even legal?” She cackles.

“Close enough. Besides, wouldn’t be fair for just the viper jocks to have all the fun.”

He looks down again, startled, and Kara reads his mind. “Don’t worry, I think Hot Dog would’ve been willing, but I smuggled you back here.” She snickers. “Just in time too. Ellen Tigh was eying you like you were the last bottle of ambrosia in the universe.”

He shudders and his eyes roam further. Horror seizes him when he sees a pale purple mark next to the words “Thank You Captain Apollo ~ Laura.”

“The president gave me a hickey.” He says it faintly and uncomprehendingly and Kara starts choking with laughter, sagging against the table across from him.

“Guess you’re just too irresistible, flyboy.”

Something occurs to him then and Lee looks down, checking his chest again. He doesn’t see it, so he stands up—and he’s thankful to find he’s not completely naked—and opens Kara’s locker to look in the mirror. Lee’s not sure if he’s relieved or disappointed when, again, he doesn’t see it.

He pivots to face her, keeps his voice even as he says, “Seems like _you_ managed to resist just fine.”

Something shifts in the air and Kara nails him with _a look_ , cocks an eyebrow, and steps closer. She lifts her hand to his waist, trails the tip of her finger back and forth against the band of his briefs. Lee’s stomach muscles clench tight and he feels a distinct pull in his groin. His cock goes from 0 to 3Gs in less time than it takes to flip a viper. It requires all the willpower Lee can summon not to moan.

Kara leans in, dancing eyes still locked on his, and all but whispers, “Look _harder_ , sir.”

And now he’s fully stiff, his briefs visibly tenting, and harder isn’t exactly a problem at all—except it is, because Kara’s still only a few breaths away and no doubt she’s noticed. Lee realizes his logic is a bit faulty, because, hell, it’s not like she hasn’t seen it before, and if she did what he thinks she did last night, then she definitely—

Lee swallows hard and says frak it, turns back to the mirror and hooks his thumbs beneath the band, peeling the briefs down till they lodge under his balls.

There in big, bold writing curling around the base of his cock are the words, _“CAGs do it best,_ ” then up the underside of his shaft are the letters: S…T…A…R…B…U…C…K stretching right to the tip. His brain shorts out, blank, and the only thing he can think to say is, “You forgot the hickey.”

Kara steps around in front of the mirror and looks down at her handiwork for a long moment. Then she lifts her face to him, eyes bright with mischief and her lips quirking. Her voice drops at least an octave when she says, “Funny. I sucked as hard as I could. Guess it didn’t take.”

Of course, he can’t _not_ picture it, and then Lee has to squeeze his eyes shut, try to count to twenty so he doesn’t start coming just at the mere thought like a horny prepubescent. It seems impossible that he’d be too drunk to remember it, and he’d cry foul, except…well, he thinks it’s exactly what Kara might do, especially if he was too blitzed to enjoy it or recall it.

He’s feeling pretty sober now though, and still impossibly aroused, almost aching he’s so hard. Lee returns to counting and breathing slowly when he feels a firm push against his bared skin and his eyes shoot open. Kara’s got a thumb pressed to the “t” in “ _best_ ” and she holds it up to him. The writing’s smeared off on her hand. She lifts the digit to her lips, and her tongue peeks out and licks it. His mouth goes dry and his thighs tense a little.

Lee’s voice shakes a bit when he says, “You shouldn’t do that. The marker’s probably toxic.”

“Actually, I didn’t use the marker. It’s chocolate body paint.” She licks her other thumb and swipes it across the letter “K” and over the head of his cock and Lee can’t stop the moan from slipping out. She holds her thumb up to his mouth and he can smell it. It is chocolate.

“Where did you—“

“Won it in a triad game just before decommissioning. Was saving it for a special occasion.” She grinned and wiggled her thumb under his nose again. “Figured this was as special as it’s gonna get around here.”

He hasn’t eaten chocolate since before the war and Lee always did have a sweet tooth. So, before he knows it he’s grabbing her wrist and tugging, sliding her thumb between his lips and sucking. The chocolate’s succulent but the look on Kara’s face, as her mouth twists and she gasps, is even more satisfying. He pulls his lips off her skin with a pop but doesn’t let go of her wrist, just tugs again to bring her closer. His erection bobs against the soft cotton of her briefs and Lee feels himself leaking he’s so aroused. He should be embarrassed but there’s no room. The only emotion registering right now is hunger--and not for the chocolate.

Kara looks down at him, then back up, grinning wickedly. “You’re messing up my artwork, Lee.” She plants a hand on his chest and shoves him back as she talks until his calves hit the bunk. “Maybe we should just clean you up.” Then she slides her hand up, pushes down on his shoulder till he sits, keeps it there till he turns, lays back on her mattress.

She reaches for his bunched briefs and pulls them off his legs, tosses them aside and then rips her own tank over her head and shimmies her hips, sliding her briefs down and kicking them off. She winks as she climbs in after him, makes a joke about not getting dirty (that he half misses because he’s too busy taking in the sight of her), and perches on her knees between his thighs.

Anticipation makes him throb, his skin tingling even before Kara bends over him, touching the tip of her tongue to the curve of the “C” in _“CAGs”_. Lee groans, heart pounding, and pushes up on his elbows to watch her. Kara goes slow, her tongue flicking at his skin in short maddening swipes, then longer glides that send shivers up his spine. Her palms brace flat on either side of his hips and the tip of her tongue is the only body part touching him. Lee grips the sheets hard, fingers curling in them as he watches.

She lifts her mouth away after she licks up the smear that used to be the last “t”, then she reaches up and curls her palm around his cock to hold him steady. Lee lets out a long moan, thrusting shallowly and instinctively against her hand. _“Oh Gods, Kara.”_

She smirks, but just splays her other hand on his hip, holding him down, then tilts her head, lowering her lips to the base of his shaft and sucks at the “S”. Kara moves up the length of him letter by letter, tongue tracing lazily against the thick vein pulsing there, and Lee’s hands and thighs are shaking with restraint by the time she reaches the smeared “K.” She wraps her lips around his head and sucks once, quick and shallow, but it’s too much, way too much, and Lee grabs her shoulders, pulling her up to him. Her body presses against him and his mouth closes over hers, tongue stroking hard between her lips, tasting the chocolate.

They break apart after a few moments, but he can’t stop kissing her, and in between each brush against her lips and jaw and neck, he’s muttering into her skin, his voice guttural and pained, “Kara, I can’t…. I’m going to… need to… Gods, _please_.” Lee takes a deep breath, tries to force out a coherent thought and can only get as far as “ _Want to be inside--_ ,” and blissfully she understands because she's already shifting forward to straddle his hips and sink onto him.

They moan in unison as she slides down, wet and tight and feeling like the closest thing to heaven he’s ever touched, and Lee can’t wait any longer. He drives up hard, hips bucking into hers, even as he presses a hand to Kara’s ass and cradles her head with the other, keeping her anchored tight to him. She’s moaning into his mouth on every thrust and he can only hope she’s as close as he is, because after all the foreplay, and months— _crap, years_ —of dreaming of this, he can’t believe he’s held on this long. He slides a hand through her hair, and down, brushing over a breast, cupping its weight briefly, fingers squeezing her nipple and Kara cries out and pushes off his chest, back arching. He groans as the angle shifts, and she slides up then down again, taking him deeper, and his fingers scrabble down between them to rub at her clit, because he’s gone, coming hard and unable to stop and he wants Kara to come with him.

It works. Her legs clamp to his hips and she groans out his name as she clenches around him, head thrown back, mouth open, looking completely and utterly sinful. Pleasure is still spiraling through him when Kara sags, boneless against his chest and breathing hard. He lifts a hand to clutch her sweaty hip and turns his head, pressing his lips to her forehead. “Frak, Lee,” she croaks.

“Mmmhmm,” he murmurs. She brings a hand up, fingers tracing the marks on his chest, which, he thinks, are going to be a hell of a lot less fun to get off. But they’ve both got a full day's leave and, right now, an empty bunkroom. Better ideas take hold.

“You have any of that body paint left?”

She rolls gingerly on top of him, a wide grin already forming. “I might. Whatcha got in mind, Captain?”

He wraps his arms around her back, squeezes a little. “Well, my mother always stressed the importance of good manners,” he grins. “An incredible thank you note like that deserves an answer, don’t you think?”


End file.
